


Usual Suspects

by Questions3



Series: Nightshade [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Bilbo Baggins, BAMF Hobbits, Cousins, Flying, Gen, Tooks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9128218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questions3/pseuds/Questions3
Summary: Meet Bilbo's best mates





	

            “Why did I volunteer to help you again?!” Bilbo’s voice was a bit high pitched as she stared with wide yellow eyes at the mess of sandy curls in front of her as the mad hobbit helped her strap into his newest contraption.

            Fortinbras looked up quick and sent his little cousin a reassuring smile, “Because you’re a Baggins and they believe in familial responsibility,” before going back to the belts and buttons that were securing a monstrosity of woodwork and white canvas to her back.

            Adalgrim piped in from where he was watching the proceedings with a face rather like constipation, “And he’s actually your favorite cousin even if you refuse to admit it.” At the disbelieving look he got for the comment his pansy colored eyes smiled at her, “Well, when he’s not potentially sending you to an early grave.”

            “Hey now! Lets have faith in our cousin, cousin!” Sigsmond announced as he clapped the elder Baggins-Took on the shoulder, damn near sending the lad to the floor with the strength behind it, and smiled his wide guileless grin at Bilbo. She wasn’t a fool and wasn’t convinced as she glared the tall beastly boy down.

            “It’s no more or less stupid than anything else you’ve done,” Flambard drawled from where he’d set himself up leaning against the trunk of the large aspen the lot had taken residence near. Midnight curls were falling into his deep indigo eyes as he smirked into panicked ambers.

            “Are you _sure_ this is gonna work Fort?” Adalgrim asked, skepticism thick in his voice and written all over his face.

            Bilbo glanced up sharply from where she was being strapped to the winged deathtrap when said cousin merely nodded his scruffy curls, “Of course.” The elder cinched the last belt a bit tighter across Bilbo’s thigh before stepping back and looking over his notes, writing stick flashing as he worked through some kind of mystic number game, “I’ve calculated the lift necessary compared to the width of the wingspan and her weight. The weather’s good, the wind is blowing at a perfect three clicks in a northeasterly direction.” He swiped and dotted something before turning his mulberry eyes up to look at his contraption and smiled that dreamy thing that was currently making it _very_ hard for half the female populace of the Shire to breath, “Yes, it should work perfectly.”

            Of course Bilbo, being a first cousin, wasn’t near so befuddled by said dimpled smile and sent her own raven curls to bouncing as she turned a baleful glare towards the lad, “ _Should_? What do you mean _should_? Why is there _doubt_ in these proceedings?”

            As ridiculously unaware as Fortinbras could be even he wasn’t oblivious to the clear trepidation in his tiny cousin. Widening those big wine colored oculars he raised a hand in a clear attempt at reassurance, “It’ll be perfectly fine Bells. I think.” And they lost him once more to his notes as he began to mumble crossly to himself, scratching at his left temple leaving a grey smear that ended at the corner of his eye.

            Panic was not fun, “Why do _I_ have to be the one hooked to the death trap?!” She was _not_ whining. It wasn’t whining to bring up concerns over the prospect of your imminent doom. Regardless of whether or not you stomped your feet like a petulant faunt while you did so.

            Sigsmond, the beast he was, came up to her and started jostling the bits and pieces about, sending her to wiggling with the contraption. Sun bleached blonde brow quirked up as he drew away with some bob that’d snapped off at his inspection, which he quickly hid behind his back before smiling and shuffling the riotous black curls of his little cousin, “It has to be someone small otherwise they’ll fall to their doom or something. I wasn’t really payin’ attention. You know how he gets when he starts talking about numbers.” He smiled brightly as he loped away from the slowly hyperventilating lass. Really he was far more relaxed than the situation called for.

            Desperation wasn’t becoming on anyone, least of all a professional such as herself, “Why can’t Bard do it!? He’s just as small as I am!” she attempted to wave a hand in the lad’s direction making herself look like some sort of odd wood and canvas bat as her limbs stuttered and fluttered the air. She was rewarded by a dark glare through darker fringe as the lad in question leaned against the shade tree they were arguing under, mutely assuring her future demise should this not do the trick.

            Adalgrim made a stealthy shift over to look at Fortinbras’ notes as the sandy haired hobbit mumbled at the rest, “He’s two inches taller, is comprised of about fifty pounds extra muscle. The denser material would render this impossible instead of implausible.” With that the elder slammed his notes shut and gestured Sigsmond back over, “Now would be good. Just make sure to throw her _into_ the wind.”

            Bilbo’s squawk trailed after them as Sigsmond broke into a grin and heaved the hobbit, contraption and all into his arms and over his shoulders before running full pelt down the hill.

            “NononononononononononoNO!!!!” Bilbo cried as she tried to grab hold of the lad’s hair only to find the wind was whipping into the canvas and thrusting her arms out and above her. Fortinbras hollered after them, “Arms out Bilbo! Once he releases you need to keep them level or you’ll get wrapped up and fall!”

            The hill was steep and gave out at a ledge where the rains had collapsed part of the neighboring hillock. The plan was to have Sigsmond, their strongest, race to the ledge, picking up as much speed as possible before throwing her bodily into the wind and out over the glen below. That was, of course, assuming he could unwrap Bilbo’s knees from the ever-tightening grip she had on the lad’s head. As the lot approached at an increasingly fast clip over the green Sigsmond’s laughing roar resonated through said knees into the terrified imp, “You ready Bilbo?!” This was answered with a further clenching of her knees around his thick head as she snarled, “I’m coming back to haunt you _first_!” before the infidel abruptly stopped with inches to spare and lifted her over his head still further while thrusting her forward and up.

            Bilbo closed her eyes as the green lands below began to race towards her only to feel her stomach make another somersault as the winds blew into her hair and face. Gasping she opened her yellow eyes and found herself _gliding_ like some giant bird over the field of wildflowers and sunshine. She laughed as she heard the hooting and hollering of her compatriots. Adalgrim was clapping his cousin on the shoulder as Fortinbras stood watching their tiny cousin take flight. Flambard smirked slightly as he rolled his eyes as Sigsmond’s boisterous hollering and leaping. No one had died and it seemed a full-blown success. Bilbo was shouting out towards the lads as she turned in the current and sailed over their heads watching as the world swirled below her in a whirlwind of color and texture and light. And then something in the contraption on her back gave way with an earth shattering _snap_ and she found herself watching in horror as one of the wings went to the left as the other went to the right. _She_ stubbornly proceeded in a forwardly projection where a tree limb had the good grace to slam into her gut, thus ceasing the hobbit’s frontward momentum. It then proceeded to break under her weight and introduce her to a number of its cousin branches before the entire lot deposited her safe and sound on the solid ground below it.

            “BILBO!” Adalgrim’s horrified bellow was followed by Forinbras’ yelp as the four lads raced after their collapsing companion.

            Flambard reached her first, being the swiftest, and gently began checking her head for cuts and abrasions with a grimly muttered, “Stay still.”

            Bilbo wasn’t having any issues obeying as the lad hissed when he found a cut along her hairline and a sizable bump on her left temple.

            Sigsmond sheepishly took the bob he’d hidden earlier out of his pocket as the other three caught up to their smaller compatriots, “I guess this was important then?”

            As tall and strong as Iggy was, he wasn’t any match when Bard thought he’d been particularly dense. Grim sighed as he cushioned his tiny cousin’s head in his lap waiting for the pair to work it out of their systems so they could cart the lass back to his mother and patch her up. Rose Baggins-Took was an accomplished healer out of self-defense, seeing she’d married into the most rambunctious family in the Shire. Fort seated himself next to the pair and began documenting everything he’d seen and could get the addled Bilbo to comment on.


End file.
